Perfect day for a party

Flowers were even in attendance

The party filled weekend continued. I spent Sunday at my friends house to celebrate the birthday of their daughter – her first. It was a good mix of family, friends and playbuddies. Everyone eating cupcakes, gumbo, and enjoying the warm day.

As birthdays go, you’re allowed a handful of all-out big bashes:

  • Your first birthday
  • The first one you’ll remember
  • The first one you have friends you want to invite, just so you can
  • 10 is a pretty big deal, moving into double digits and all
  • Sixteen, just ’cause it’s sweet and whatever
  • 21 at the bar
  • 30 to remind you drinking isn’t as fun
  • 40 deserves intimate notation in the very least
  • 50 for all the folks you know and love, and none of the ones you loathe, because by now, you’ve got it whittled to just the good parts
  • … and so on and so forth. The rest of the decades can be marked, but I suppose only 100 is extremely notable. The ones inbetween are simply leading up to three digits.

And to think just a year ago today I was in Dallas for a roundup and rodeo, getting a phone call from excited friends who were now officially parents.

Golly, the months of the calendar pages flip over like hummingbird wings.

Memo to myself:

  • count blessings
  • prepare for 40th birthday party (i figure 7 years and 9 months is ample time)
  • visit with friends far and near as often as possible
  • increase amount of fresh foods in diet
  • use moisturizer and sunblock daily
  • do the dumb things I gotta do
  • touch the puppet head
  • don’t be afraid to say golly or blessings